


Five Times Graves Tried to Kiss Newt Scamander (and One Time he Sort of Succeeded)

by roadmagician



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Id Fic, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadmagician/pseuds/roadmagician
Summary: Graves tries to express his feelings. It doesn't go to plan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> time for something fluffy! my last Percival/Newt fic was pure angst, tbh, so i felt like writing something cute and silly. cliche romantic tropes abound. ice skating, gift giving, slow dancing, mistletoe, secondary characters playing matchmaker, misunderstandings and romantic confessions. (probably wildly ooc.) allll here. it's marked 'id-fic' for a reason, lol - pure self-indulgence on my part but i hope u enjoy reading it too!

1.  
In the year since Grindelwald had been arrested, things began to improve for Percival Graves. He was healthier and back at work. Cases continued and there was always something new to turn his mind to.

But he had to admit that one of the biggest sources of recent happiness was getting to work alongside Newt Scamander.

From the moment he'd first said hello - with that shy, hesitant smile, that warmed over time - he'd been charmed. No matter how he tried to talk himself out of it, no matter how he tried to shove the feelings down, he couldn't help the warm glow of happiness that blossomed whenever Newt was around.

He knew he needed to do something about it. But this month, the department was busier than it had ever been. It seemed like every day a new report came out about some sighting of dark wizard supporters along the East Coast, or another incident of no-maj families being targeted. Months were spent tracking them and his cases rarely intersected with Newt. The most time they had together was a cup of coffee at the bakery and the occasional dinner.

Graves was starting to get frustrated until finally it seemed like his opportunity had come. Newt was enlisted to help him on the case of a theft of an entire crate full of dragon eggs. The entire time they were working together Graves found himself resisting the irrational impulse to pounce, but he was, after all, a professional.

At the end of a long day, tired but pleased, they staggered back through the marble lobby and up to Graves' office. At last, he thought as he shut the door, alone at last.

He shrugged off his coat and watched Newt in what he hoped was a surreptitious way.

"You did well today, Scamander. Fine work, as always."

"Oh! Thank you," Newt said, blinking at him. He always looked so surprised when people gave him compliments. It made Graves want to compliment him even more but he also didn't want to scare him off.

He reached up to his glass-panelled cabinet and opened a bottle of whisky.

"Care for a glass?" he asked with a smile.

Newt looked awkward. "I don't... um..."

"No, of course not," Graves said quickly, tapping the amber liquid. It ran clear. "Water then, my apologies."

Dammit, he'd already made a mess of this. Of course Newt Scamander didn't drink alcohol. He handed him the glass and silenced the part of his brain that was celebrating at the merest brush of Newt's fingers against his.

Standing there, Graves was struck once more by how beautiful Newt looked, especially after a day like today, with his hair all mussed and his face with a healthy glow to it and his eyes bright. He found himself staring at the pink curve of his lips parted over the rim of the glass.

Graves took a sip of whisky. It wasn't just the warmth of drink that went to his head. He sought for something intelligent to say.

"You - you did well," he repeated, "Clever, to enchant the box with the eggs in it. Not something most aurors would have thought of first."

Newt blushed from the tips of his ears. It looked good on him.

"It was a simple charm, really..."

"You're smarter than people give you credit for," he insisted. "You've got many good qualities. You're clever, you're brave, you're decent..."

He dared to reach up a hand to hover near his face. Any moment now, he thought, Newt would flinch way. He wanted to be closer.

But he didn't flinch or turn away. Newt's gaze flickered across his face with a keen expression as if searching for something.

His fingers brushed Newt's jaw. He stepped in closer. Newt's lips parted just slightly.

There was a knock at the door. Graves shut his eyes and sighed.

"Mister Graves, sir, there's an urgent message about tomorrow's caseload - Madam Picquery - "

Dammit, that would be Stanley, forever eager to be promoted, and forever a pain in the ass.

Graves dropped his hand and stepped away and his body language shifted at once into the professional.

"Come in, Hopkins."

Newt had already sidled over to the cabinet and by the time he was done talking to Stanley, he'd left before they could continue their conversation. Graves sat in his office in silence and cradled what was left of his whisky.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2! short and somewhat ridiculous. pls enjoy.

2.

Graves realised that it was near-impossible to talk to Newt alone at work with the sheer amount of crises he constantly had to manage. So, he would try to talk to him outside of work. But what sort of date would Newt prefer? 

When Graves presented him with two tickets to the zoo, Newt was ecstatic. 

"Oh, I'd love to go!" he said, his whole face lighting up, "I've always wanted to see the Muggle creatures! Marvelous!" That expression was worth everything. 

Graves had initially suggested it as a 'personalised introduction to New York', hoping Newt would take the hint. 

They wandered through Central Park despite the cold and their shoulders brushed as they walked. December was fast arriving. Newt wore a thick woolen scarf wrapped around his neck and he would peek at Graves occasionally through his fringe of golden hair. 

When they came to the zoo, Graves felt it had all been worth it. Newt rushed from one exhibit to the next, pointing stuff out to him, and drinking it all in with fascination. He had the energy of a child. 

They stood in front of the tiger enclosure. Newt was transfixed as he watched the beast pad over near the window and its golden eyes roamed over them. Graves was more preoccupied by Newt's expression. 

"You like it?" 

Newt nodded. "I can see how the Muggles are so fascinated by these creatures - they're beautiful. This one reminds me of you." 

Graves snorted in amusement. It wasn't a joke; Newt was looking at him with an earnest expression. 

"I mean it!" he said. "They're... they're sort of magnetic." 

"Magnetic...?" Graves echoed. 

The tips of Newts ears were turning pink as he kept talking. 

"You know - powerful, strong, graceful... er, that is to say, mysterious..." 

It was definitely the oddest compliment he'd ever received but it was coming from Newt, so it was also the best compliment he'd ever received.  

"Trying to flatter me, are you?" he asked, giving his best Smoldering Look at Newt. He prowled closer. 

For a moment, Newt was lost for words. He was staring at down at Graves' mouth and his cheeks were quite pink. 

"I- I'd rather hoped that-" 

But whatever Newt had hoped was going to happen was lost to the mists of time. His gaze drifted off to look somewhere behind Graves' shoulder and then his eyes widened.  

" _Bother_ ," he said and tore away from his grasp. Graves turned to see Newt running down the path and brushing past startled patrons as he chased after a black moving dot in the distance. 

The Niffler had escaped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ehehehe this chapter was so much fun to write! hope u like it.

3.

Graves grew more and more frustrated by the day. Even just being in the same room as Newt Scamander had become a unique form of torture. He wanted nothing more than to kiss the man and yet it was denied to him. 

His frustration was leaching into his work performance and people were starting to notice. One day, Tina dropped by his office.

"Sir," she said, "With all due respect, and please don't fire me - you need to do something about your Scamander problem."

"My _what?_ "

"You know what I'm talking about, sir," she said, leveling him with a serious look.

He gave a deep sigh, put a hand over his face, and said: "Shut the door, Goldstein."

Once the door was shut, he said: "Am I that obvious?"

"Let me put it this way - Amaro and Higgins have a pool going. It's 50 to 1 that you don't make a move and stew in your own misery."

"It's none of their business!"

"When you're taking it out on the rest of the department, it _is_. Everyone's getting annoyed, sir. You yelled at Hopkins today for no reason."

"Well, maybe he won't interrupt me the next time I'm trying to-"'

She folded her arms and stared at him. "You've got to try harder. This is Newt Scamander we're talking about."

"And what do you expect me to do about it?" he snapped. "I've tried! I've even taken him on a date but I'm not sure he even realised it!"

Tina frowned. "You've just got to be more direct. Wait a minute!" She leapt to her feet. "I've got an idea! Ice skating!"

His eyes narrowed. "Pardon?"

"Queenie and Jacob and I are going ice skating this weekend! You could bring Newt! I'll make sure you two have plenty of time alone. Just invite him!"

"Yes, yes, all right. I'll see what I can do. Now back to work, Goldstein..."

And so Graves took Newt ice skating. The ice rink was a frozen-over lake in Central Park that was popular with the wizarding community in New York. To anyone non-magical who walked past, it looked like a rusty old construction site with a sign reading "DO NOT TRESPASS" in large letters. If they got any closer they all of a sudden remembered they'd left the stove on and had to turn back.

Without that illusion it was a beautiful place. It was crowded with families and couples and children, young and old alike, and all bundled up in coats and scarves and mittens. Their breaths came in little puffs of white against the chill. The sky above was slate grey with an intermittent gap of blue that let down a ray of sunshine. 

Graves sat at the edge of the lake and struggled to put on his boots. As he failed at tying a knot he began to wonder what he'd gotten himself into.

Newt sat down next to him.

"Do you need some help with that?"

"Yes," he admitted, because he could be nothing but honest with Newt, especially when he looked as adorable as he did now. He was bundled up in a long blue coat with a knitted scarf and his hair was covered by a striped beanie. Golden curls peeked out from under the hat and his cheeks and nose were flushed from the chill wind.

Newt knelt at his feet and set to work helping him with his ice skates.

"Have you been ice skating before?" Newt asked.

"Once or twice," Graves admitted. "Many years ago. I've never had the time or inclination..."

"Excellent, I can teach you, then," said Newt, looking up at him with a little smile. Then he yanked on the laces so hard that Graves almost overbalanced.

"It should be tight," said Newt. "You don't want to roll your ankle, do you?"

Newt helped him to his feet and he relished at the feel of that warm hand on his arm. Then Tina brushed past them and skated onto the ice.

"Come on, sir," she called out, "Give it a try!"

It was a challenge, and Graves loved a challenge.

With Newt holding onto his arm, he stepped out onto the ice. But it was not as easy as he'd thought. The skates felt like two lead boulders as he crept forwards in little shuffling steps. He clung to Newt's arm like a wobbly newborn colt.

"Come on," said Newt, who was moving slowly backwards, "It's easy. Bend your knees and lean forward a bit. You can do it!"

Graves discovered he was out of practice. Over and over and over again he overbalanced and slipped and fell over. Newt winced every time he hit the ice. He had expected to look suave and cool and confident in front of Newt and stroll with him arm-in-arm around the rink and instead, he was covered in bruises.

He sat on the ice rubbing his knee, which would be stiff tomorrow, and glared at Tina. This was a terrible idea.

Something fast and pink flashed by them with a whoosh. Queenie Goldstein was a vision in a fluffy pale-pink coat and earmuffs and she left a waft of floral perfume in her wake. Beside her, Jacob Kowalski was matching her stride for stride. For such a big man, he was astonishingly light on his feet as he carved up the ice. He whirled, executed a perfect pirouette, and landed without a wobble. And now he was skating backwards and taking Queenie into a spin.

"Show off," Graves muttered.

"Having fun, Mister Graves?" Queenie called out. "Up you get!"

Newt pulled him too his feet with an arm around his shoulder.

"You can do it, Percy, we'll just practice," he said with an encouraging smile.

With that, Graves was determined. He followed Newt around the lake. Little by little he began to improve and eventually let go of his arm and moved off on his own. There were still a few falls but soon he was speeding along next to Newt. There was a growing thrill of excitement at being able to skate at last. There was something fun about the feeling of gliding along effortlessly with a simple push.

Perhaps he could even manage something more difficult, he thought, hoping to be as dashing on his feet as Jacob Kowalski. And that was his mistake.

He turned around to face Newt so that he was moving backwards and grasped his hand. Newt's eyes widened in alarm.

"Hang on-" he blurted.

His feet skittered on the ice. He knew, even before it happened, that he could do nothing to stop it. His foot slipped, his ankle gave way, then the whole world tilted and he fell backwards, dragging Newt with him.

They crashed. It felt like all the teeth in his head were threatening to fall out and for a long while he lay there with his entire body a solid wall of pain and the grey blue sky spinning above him.

He became aware of the soft weight of Newt lying on top of him and on any other occasion he would have relished it but right now all he could focus on was the pain.  
Newt's face swam into view as he propped himself up on his elbows and winced.

Graves stared at Newt. Maybe he was just winded but he didn't feel like speaking. He gazed at Newt's face and felt, once more, a searing urge to kiss him.

But then Newt was getting off him and helping him to his feet. He looked embarassed.

"That was quite a fall. Are you all right?"

"Better, now I've got you," said Graves, regretting the words the instant they left his mouth.

But there was no time to regret. They were alone at last, for these few precious moments, and he'd be able to make his move. He stepped closer to Newt and brushed a hand against his. With his other hand he reached up and tugged his scarf down -

There was an ominous creaking sound. Newt's gaze darted to the ice. Graves looked down, too. Cracks were spreading.

"Oh, _honestly_ -" he began, and the ice gave way.

After that, they found themselves sitting on the sidelines, shivering and clutching cups of firewhisky. Graves did not like ice skating.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile in australia it is literally hot enough to bake cupcakes in my car, welcome to hELL

4.

Tina Goldstein was now sitting in his office listening to him rant. He was still nursing a bruised knee a week later.

"Every time, Goldstein! I don't know what else to do. Maybe he's not interested, maybe I'm kidding myself..."

Tina snorted.

"No, sir, he's definitely interested. Queenie tells me things."

Graves was curious but also thought better of it. People's thoughts were their own, after all, and he longed for Newt to trust him more than anything.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, staring at the vast snowdrift of unsigned paperwork that covered his desk.

Graves wasn't used to this. Most of his job involved knowing exactly what to do and going out and doing it. Not this weird nebulous waiting. Until now he'd considered relationships to be a trivial distraction.

Tina worried at her lip.

"Maybe... maybe you need to be more obvious, sir. I don't think Newt's very experienced, honestly, he misses a lot of stuff..."

"Obvious? Obvious how?"

"Well... something that's obviously romantic, I suppose."

"I've already asked him to dinner, and the zoo, and coffee, Goldstein."

"Get him a present!" she said brightly. "That's sure to work!"

Graves frowned. He wasn't sure if Newt would appreciate romantic gifts. Anything like that would intimidate him, surely.

"Roses, chocolates, that sort of thing? Doesn't seem very... Newt."

"Of course not," she said. "You know him. Get him something he'd _really_ like. He'll be sure to notice you then!"

Graves considered this. Something that Newt would _really_ like... and then the idea occurred to him. He smiled. That might actually work.

"I ought to start paying you overtime for this, Goldstein," he said.

She snorted.

"Just pay for a bagel next time and we're even, sir."

So Graves took her advice and decided to buy a present. It took a lot of machinations, and asking six different people, but he was determined to go through the proper channels. He was Director, after all, and that carried a bit of weight.

As the weather grew colder, Christmas grew nearer and nearer each day. Tinsel was unfurling itself in the department halls and there were wreaths appearing on their doors. Even the huge crisis monitor that hung in the main hall now read "CURRENT STATUS: FESTIVE."

A week before Christmas, the gift finally arrived. Tina had strategically invited both him and Newt to her Christmas luncheon.

That evening he Apparated in a side-street close by their apartment and walked the few blocks to the front door. The air was thick with the promise of new snow. He was carrying a heavy crate that was warm to the touch.

Up the flight of stairs and then Tina ushered him into the apartment. He set the crate down near the door. Queenie greeted him with a dazzling smile and Jacob Kowalski looked somewhat intimidated.

Then Newt appeared from around the kitchen door. At the sight of Graves, he gave a wide smile. "You came!"

He was wearing what was possibly the most hideous knitted sweater that Graves had ever seen. It was lumpy, discolored and misshapen. It was embroidered with what was supposed to be reindeer, and covered in little decorations of holly and tiny bells that jingled when he moved.

Graves stepped back and took in this abomination to fashion, and then he looked back up at Newt's smiling face and a horrible realisation came upon him. He was in too deep. Despite all the odds, he still found Newt attractive.

He smiled and felt sure he looked like an idiot. Somewhere in the background he could hear Queenie giggle. "I'm glad to see you, too."

Dinner was a massive three courses. Both Tina and Queenie were in some sort of culinary competition as to who could make the best dish. There was roast turkey, cranberry sauce, golden roast potatoes that were soft and fluffy inside. Heaps of gleaming vegetables covered in rich herbs. Eggnog, punch, and spicy mulled wine.

And, of course, the pudding. Queenie carried it out of the kitchen looking smug and set it down in the centre of the table. Jacob's eyes widened at the sight.

"That's amazing! What did you put on it?"

"Sauce, hon."

It was indeed covered in a caramel sauce and steaming hot from the oven. He had never tasted anything better. (Queenie had definitely won in the culinary competition.) In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good Christmas gathering. He could feel all the stress from work draining away.

He felt Newt watching him and looked across the table and caught his eye. He was smiling again. Graves smiled back and felt contentment wash over him.

After dinner, they all moved to the small living room with the couches crowded up near the heater. Tina had conjured a replica fir tree in the room that rose up to the ceiling and gave off a smell of pine sap.

The presents were crowded underneath. One by one they each received their gifts. Graves was surprised to be included - he got a rather nice quill and a bottle of whisky, and Newt gave him a 'festive' tie covered in snowmen. It was hideous and he loved it.

At last it was his turn to give Newt his present. He dragged over the large wooden crate.

"Merry Christmas," Graves said, "Since it's been so cold this year I thought I'd get you something to warm you up."

Newt looked astonished at the very idea of being given a present.

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out."

Queenie clapped her hands in excitement. "Oooh! I know, I know!"

"Don't you dare tell us what it is," said Tina sharply.

Newt knelt down and place a hand on the warm wooden surface.

"Goodness... is it a dragon? No, can't be, you'd need a bigger box... An incandescent salamander? A manticore?"

Graves handed him the key. "Here. I'd better hand her over to you now. I think you'll make a better caretaker."

Newt took the key and unlocked it. He pushed the crate open and the lid slid across with a grinding of metal and thudded to the floor. A warm golden glow spilled up from the box, lighting up hair and eyes and his excited smile. It was a vision Graves would tuck away in his memory to store for rainy days.

"You didn't!" Newt cried, looking up at him, then back down at the box. "Oh, she's beautiful..."

"What is it?" said Jacob, leaning closer. "A bird...?"

"Not just any bird. A phoenix."

Newt rolled up his sleeves, reached inside the box, and carefully pulled it up into the open. The chick lay bundled in fireproof blankets. At this stage of its life cycle it was small, pink and ugly, and covered in the spiky beginnings of plumage. Running under its skin was a soft warm glow like a lightbulb. Even as weak as it was, it still gave off a lot of heat. Being close to it felt like basking in the full warmth of a summer's day.

"How did you get it?" Newt asked.

"Pulled a few strings. It would have gone off to poachers if we hadn't found it at the ferry, and I managed to persuade them not to get rid of it so I could bring it home. I thought you'd be a better carer than me."

"This is... this is the best present I've ever gotten! Thank you!" Newt beamed at him and then flung his arms around him in a hug. Graves froze in astonishment. For the briefest of moments he felt the warmth of arms around him, the soft tickle of golden hair at his neck, a heartbeat that wasn't his own.

Then Newt drew away a little. His hand still rested on Graves arm and he was hyper-aware of the contact. He had the strongest urge to pull him in and kiss him. Newt looked back at him with an innocent expression.

The chick gave a sudden loud squawk and sparks shot from its beak.

Newt almost dropped it and everyone started laughing.

"Sh, sh, sh! Yes, you're hungry, I know. Come here, love, we'll find you a better meal..." Newt said, carrying it through to the kitchen. He was already crooning to it and scratching its chin which it seemed to like.

Graves soon discovered that his present was good. _Too_ good. Newt had quite forgotten that anything else existed because all his attention was on the newborn phoenix. He rushed around, putting it on the stovetop to keep it warm, feeding it matches and wood and paper. Fussing over it and playing with it. Graves stood back and felt useless.

This continued for the next week or so. It was always nestled at his shoulder or in his arms and whenever Graves inquired if he had a spare moment, the answer would inevitably be: "Sorry, I've got to feed Mildred."

Perhaps he should have bought chocolates and roses instead.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is about as angsty as its gonna get

Another opportunity presented itself with the Yule Ball.

Most essential work at the department was put on hold for the ball. Every famous wizard across America was sure to attend - politicians, celebrities, diplomats, all were there. It was also customary to bring a partner along.

Graves was disappointed that he hadn't managed to invite Newt himself - instead, he would be attending with Tina.

The Yule Ball was held on Christmas Eve in the main hall. The city had descended into deep cold and snow settled on all the windowsills. As Graves entered the great hall, even he was amazed by how different it looked.

MACUSA tried its best to show off every year. This year, clambering holly and ivy grew from the ceiling and walls and a sea of floating golden candles illuminated the space. The floor was grey-veined black marble that shone like the surface of a lake.

Crowds of people soon poured in. Graves used his height to peer over the crowd but he still couldn't see Newt.

Picquery stood on the stage looking like a goddess in a gown of pure gold. She opened the ball with a speech. Once the applause faded, she was the first onto the dancefloor. Her own partner was an elegant blonde-haired woman in a suit.

Soon the hall was crowded with dancers - men in full tie and tails, women in glittering sleek dresses and beaded jewellery. The music and conversation filled the space.

Graves hung back at the fringes and drank some punch, while a formidable old witch from England cornered him to talk about her hippogriff shipping program. It was not that he didn't like the Yule Ball - he'd even worn that ugly festive tie for the occasion - but he was waiting.  
And then, through the crowd, he spotted Newt.

He set his glass down and made hasty apologies to the lady. Then he maneuvered through the crowd and towards Newt.

It was surprising to see that even Newt had dressed up for the occasion. He was dressed in an old-fashioned suit in an unusual shade of midnight blue that looked stunning on him. As he turned towards Graves and smiled, whatever clever thing he had meant to say vanished from his mind.

He opened his mouth, and settled for: "Would you like to dance?"

He wasn't sure how this would play out - Newt had a nervous, skittish look on his face - but this shifted into relief. "Of course!"

He steered him onto the floor for a slower and easier number. As they moved, Newt leaned close and muttered: "Thank you. I have no idea who half these people are and I can't stand crowds. I get so nervous. At least you're here."

"I'm glad to see you, too," Graves responded.

"I should warn you," said Newt, looking hesitant, "I'm not a very good dancer."

"Neither am I. So we'll be the entertainment for this evening."

For a second Newt chuckled and seemed to relax. And it turned out they weren't so bad as dancing as they thought.

Graves murmured in his ear: "That's a good suit."

Newt went pink. "This is a hand-me-down from my grandfather. I think I'm a bit behind the times..."

"Nonsense," said Graves, "It's vintage."

He settled a hand on Newt's lower back and felt the warmth through the fabric. "Of course, you'd look good no matter what you wore."

Newt's eyes flickered down to his tie and he broke into a grin. "Very festive."

He had Newt's attention for one glorious dance, when he was close enough to see the little flecks of brown in his green eyes, but then the song was over.

Stanley Hopkins, of all people, stepped in and asked Newt to dance - _the nerve!_ \- and then Picquery was beckoning him over to talk to Bulgaria's Director of Magical Defense. And before he knew it, the entire evening had been lost in tedious conversation.

Graves was desperate not to let the opportunity pass.

As the guests were filing out of the entrance hall and down the corridor, he spotted a flash of midnight blue out of the corner of his eye.

He caught up with Newt in the doorway just as he was leaving.

"Scamander-" he called out. "Newt!" He was near enough to tug at his sleeve.

The other man turned all of a sudden and then he was standing in his arms face-to-face and mere inches away.

Newt looked up at the curling sprig of mistletoe that was now curling down the doorframe towards them.

"I've been meaning to-"

He swallowed and the words wouldn't come out right, he was doing it all wrong, dammit.

And poor Newt looked horribly nervous, staring back at him, and then looking away again at the crowd near them. There was a flicker of panic in his eyes. Even as Graves leaned forward to close the gap, he knew he'd lost him.

"I'm sorry - there's a - a thing I have to do - terribly sorry!" Newt blurted and in an instant he'd disentangled himself and disappeared into the crowds of people who were leaving.

The crowd of aurors who had been observing this little exchange now looked slightly awkward. But Higgins was somewhere near the back waving his wallet around and calling for bets.

The sight sparked his temper. "Clear off!" he barked. "What are you all staring at? Go on, go home!"

"Merry Christmas to you, too!" someone drunk called back, and was led away by wiser friends.

Tina appeared at his elbow.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said in a small voice.

Graves leaned against the doorframe. Was it just him or was this winter even colder than the last?

"You're wrong, Goldstein," he said, "I've been pushing where it's not wanted. Evidently he's not interested." He could still see the look of panic in the poor man's eyes and felt even more guilty.

Did Newt feel anything for him or was he just imagining it? 

"No, you're not," said another voice. That was Queenie Goldstein, looking up at him with the most sympathetic blue eyes he'd ever seen. He could understand now why Jacob Kowalski had fallen for her.

"I don't know what I did," he said.

"Let him go at his own pace," she said, "It's like with cats."

"Queenie!" said Tina reproachfully. "Newt's not a cat!"

"Sure he is. Let him come to you. You just spooked him, that's all."

Queenie patted him on the shoulder. But right then Graves couldn't believe her words as anything other than a white lie.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoyed this pls like, subscribe and comment for more TOTALLY RADICAL CONTENT
> 
> (yes this chapter is partly inspired by that Neil Gaiman ask about 'how to seduce a writer')

+1

After the events of the Yule Ball, Graves avoided Newt. He had decided it was for the best - obviously Newt wasn't interested and he didn't want to make him uncomfortable. So he kept his distance from him and even stopped talking to Tina as often as he used to.

She confronted him about it one day.

"What are you doing?" she said, "You're just going to act like nothing's happened?"

"I'm going to _move on_ , Goldstein," he said, "It's for the best."

It was easy to say that, but much harder to come home to an empty apartment and a plain dinner and wish he had someone to share it with.

He was sure that he had offended Newt and that even the prospect of friendship had been ruined.

So he was quite surprised one evening when another message landed - or rather, floated - onto his desk. The little crane flapped its wings, alighted on his desk, and unfolded itself.

The paper was different than the usual department stuff - it was coarse, brown paper, as if torn from a field notebook.

It bore a message in green ink which he recognised as Newt's handwriting.

It read: _You are cordially invited to a seduction. Time: This Wednesday, 5pm. Place: Kowalski's Bakery. Bring: Yourself. Follow the breadcrumbs. - Newt_

He stared and stared at it as if it would reveal its secrets. Apart from the animating charm there was nothing unusual about it.

"Goldstein!" he called and she poked her head round the door. He waved it at her. "Do you know anything about this?"

"No, sir," she said at once. She was 100% lying.

"Come on, you really can't tell me anything?"

She was biting back a smile.

"My only suggestion, sir, would be to follow the breadcrumbs."

So he did. That evening, he arrived at 5pm sharp at the Bakery. Usually Kowalski's was closed at this hour but tonight a single light was on. He pushed the door open and found it unlocked. Inside, Jacob was busy behind the counter, cleaning and stacking away trays. The instant he saw Graves he grinned.

"You're here, mister! I didn't believe it!" Then he called out: "Queenie!"

She skipped down the stairs and when she saw Graves her smile turned devious.

"Oh, I'm so glad!"

"Where's Newt? What is all this?"

"You'll see, hon." She winked at him and then pulled out her wand. "Hold still for a sec, you can't go out wearing just any old thing..."

She waved it with a flourish and in an instant his usual work clothes had been transformed into a luxurious well-tailored suit. He tugged at the collar. It felt real and expensive.  
"Now, next stop is the zoo! You better get there before they shut. Off you go, Cinderella." And she shooed him out the door.

Graves was confused but he did as instructed. The next breadcrumb was the New York zoo. He apparated just outside the gates and elbowed his way past the evening crowd who were all leaving. He got a lot of stares - it must have been odd to see someone in full formal dress going to the zoo at night.

Once inside the gates he felt bewildered. Where to go now? Wandering through the exhibits brought no new information. Finally he resorted to asking one of the few people left in the building - an elderly no-maj gentleman who was cleaning the pathway.

"Excuse me," he said, "Did another man pass this way?"

The old man looked at him and craned his neck back. His bushy eyebrows rose almost to his hairline in astonishment.

"Now you're the second weird fella I've seen tonight. Is it a full moon or somethin'?"

"Who was he? What did he look like?"

The old man squinted. "Ehh... all fancy dress, like you. Blonde hair. Absent-minded professor type."

"What way did he go?"

"Tiger enclosure, I think. Good luck!"

Graves rushed off. The cleaner shook his head and kept on dusting.

On the bench outside the darkened tiger enclosure he found a bottle of wine. Tied to it was a note that was still visible in the faint light. It read: ice skating. Graves knew at once where to go and apparated out of the building, taking the wine with him.

The next instant he was standing in the middle of a frozen lake. It was almost dark and the stars were coming out one by one. The fancy suit did nothing to keep the chill out.  
Someone glided up to him out of the darkness. It was Tina, bundled up in a warm coat, wearing ice skates. She beamed at him.

"You!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, me. I helped him plan this for at least a week."

"You're a terrible liar, Goldstein."

"Still better than you at Memory Charms," she poked back. "Here."

From behind her back she withdrew a dozen red roses. "This is for you. Next step's the _Ace of Hearts_."

Graves stared at her. The _Ace of Hearts_ was one of the finest wizarding establishments in New York and the most expensive. They really had gone to a lot of trouble over this.  
He thanked her, took the roses, and apparated again.

This time, standing outside the golden-lit glow of windows near the carpeted lobby entrance, he fit in much better. Ladies and gentlemen in their finest attire drifted past as they filed into the building.

He held his breath and pushed. The revolving door spun around and just like that he was in another room - one quite different from the hotel lobby that the no-maj visitors saw.

A greeter in a formal shirt and tie manned the central station. Through a veiled doorway beyond he could hear the sounds of the restaurant - soft jazz music, muted conversations, the clinking of glasses and tableware.

The greeter took in his attire and the roses.

"Do you have a reservation, sir?"

"I, uh.." he waved the wine and roses around vaguely. "Is Mr Scamander here? Maybe he reserved a table."

She consulted a piece of paper and then nodded. "Ah, yes, he's rserved the private booth. If you'll come this way, sir..."

She ushered him through. He passed through the main restaurant section with its rows of circular tables. Past that and through a doorway. The room beyond was carpeted in rich burgundy and lit with a soft golden glow. There was a roaring fireplace, comfortable chairs - and there, sitting at the far end of the table, was Newt.

He was dressed in the same midnight blue suit he'd worn at the ball.

He looked nervous and twitchy and as Graves arrived he stood up all of a sudden and pushed the chair back.

They stared at each other across the table and there was a long and uncomfortable silence.

The greeter interrupted. "Place your orders when you're ready and the food will arrive shortly," she said. "Please enjoy." Then she left.

Once she was gone Newt let out a breath. "I- I wasn't sure if you'd come," he said.

"This was unexpected," said Graves, as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to talk to me again."

"Oh dear, I've really messed this all up, haven't I?" Newt said, putting his head in his hands.

"What is all this?" Graves asked. He gestured to the bottle of wine and the roses. "After you left at the Yule Ball I was under the impression you didn't want anything to do with me. So I left you alone. Why all this grand gesture?"

"Because I thought that's what you wanted," said Newt in a small voice. "I - it's not that I'm not interested, I _am_ \- very much so - and now you don't like it, I'm so sorry..."

"No, no, no," said Graves quickly. "It's sweet of you. I'm impressed. This took a lot of planning."

Newt gave a threadbare smile.

"I thought you'd like a mystery to solve. A bit of fun, that's all." Then he added: "I'm sorry. I should have said something instead of just running away like a coward."

Graves shook his head. "I should be the one apologising. You don't like grand gestures, do you?"

Newt shook his head. "It's not really what we do, in England. And I don't like crowds much, either."

"I made you uncomfortable at the Yule Ball, in front of all those people, didn't I?" said Graves in a gentle tone. "I wasn't thinking of the time and place, I just wanted - well. I'm sorry. It was rash and stupid of me."

"That's all right," said Newt, and his smile was a bit warmer now. "I'm sorry, too. I want the same thing you do. I do. Very much." A tinge of pink appeared high on his cheeks.

He glanced away. "I'm just - I've never - that is to say, I haven't... Well, I assumed you'd prefer someone a bit more knowledgable in this area."

Graves sat back and gave a soft laugh of amusement.

"Is that all? Oh, Newt - I couldn't care less. As long as it's you, that's all that matters."

This time Newt looked more happy and at ease than he'd ever seen him. His smile was warm.

"Now -" said Graves, "Shall we order?"  
They did order. Within a few moments of dictating their request the meals materialised on the plates in front of them. It was rich, exquisite food, in the French style, and he savored every mouthful. Afterwards they opened the bottle of wine and enjoyed it with dessert.

Sometime later, Newt accompanied Graves home. They stood outside his apartment door. It was late and most of New York had settled in for bed.

"I understand if you don't want to go inside," said Graves, "There's all the time in the world."

Newt sounded relieved. "Thank you. Although - there was one thing I was hoping for?"

"Yes?" said Graves. He smiled.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Of course."

Newt closed his eyes and leaned in. Graves moved forwards - so did Newt - they closed the gap -

There was a _thwack_.

They both reeled backwards. Newt clutched his forehead and Graves swore.

"Ow - dammit!"

"Sorry, sorry!"

Graves started to laugh.

"I can see I'm going to have to teach you some things. First of all, you need to tilt your head, otherwise you're going to poke my eye out with your nose..."

Their second attempt was much better. Graves went home once more to an empty apartment but this time he didn't feel alone.

* * *

As it turned out, once Newt had figured out how to kiss, he couldn't seem to stop. He was fond of just turning up at opportune moments to surprise him.

Such as today, when he had apparated into Graves office and was sitting on his desk.

Paperwork, Graves thought, could wait. There were more important things in life. Like the feel of Newt's soft lips against his, coaxing his mouth open, and the warmth of his tongue slipping in, and the hands that brushed against his jaw. His hair would be a mess after this but it was worth it.

Newt shifted closer against him, moving down to straddle him against the chair, and his clever fingers were undoing the buttons on his waistcoat one by one. He pressed down and Graves gasped into his mouth - now _that_ was interesting. He could get used to that. And he could feel the curve of Newt's mouth smiling against his. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing to him.

He reached up and tugged at his hair to pull him closer.

Graves was enjoying himself so much he didn't hear the door open until it was too late.

"Holy shit -"

In an instant Newt had leaped ten feet away and Graves was fumbling around trying to do up the buttons in his waistcoat.

Higgins was standing red-faced in the doorway. He threw the papers down.

"Dammit all to hell! There goes my money! Damn you, Graves!" He stormed off down the corridor.

Newt shot him a smile. "Sorry."

He wasn't sorry at all.


End file.
